


Requests

by smellslikecitrus



Series: Hamilton Memes [11]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Based On An SNL Skit, Funny, Gen, John is an idiot in the video, M/M, Meme, One Shot, The Author Regrets Nothing, World War II video, based on a youtube video, is that a thing?, no swearing but questionable words?, you'll see - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 10:15:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11530122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smellslikecitrus/pseuds/smellslikecitrus
Summary: Alex makes a WWII "educational video" for the office...Everyone filming tries not to laugh.I thought this was appropriate since that SNL was the night that Lin was hosting :D





	Requests

Washington had allowed Hamilton to show a, quote unquote, “educational video to the office” on the anniversary of the end of World War II. Alex had a little fun making it.

A voiceover started with a black screen, “we now return to this World War II _educational video_ , ‘A Degree Of Valor.’” The words showed up as they were spoken.

The scene opened on some soldiers in a trench with shrapnel landing all around them. Alex, who was apparently in charge in the scenario, started shouting. Just like real life.

“Fall back men, the Germans have us surrounded!”

“You got it, Sarge!” cried Lafayette back to him.

Then John stood up onscreen and walked over to his boyfriend as the other soldiers fell back.

“Brooklyn! I said fall back, THAT’S FORWARD!” Alex screamed at John.

“What?” John asked stupidly.

John was then hit with shrapnel.

“BROOKLYN!” yelled Alex. Man, his voice volume was on high.

“OH. OW. Uh. Sarge, they got me!” acted John as he fell onto the side of the trench.

“Hang on, son. We’re gonna get you outta here. Medic!” Alex looked around desperately, eyes wide. The audience that was George Washington’s employees collectively leaned into the screen and held their breath.

“No,” John panted, “Sarge it’s too late for me!”

“Don’t talk like that! You’re gonna be fine!”

“No. No, listen. I gotta ask you for a favor.”

“Sure, Brooklyn. What is it?” Alex sounded encouraging as he applied pressure to John’s fake wound.

“When I’m gone, I need you to go to my house, and find my girl. And tell her that I love her! Even though she was a Sox fan!” He started coughing from the strain of talking.

“...Okay, Brooklyn, I promise I’ll tell her the first chance I get,” promised Alex.

“And then, once you’ve told her that, make some excuse to go up into my garage.” John wasn’t done yet, and Alex gave him a questioning look.

“Your garage.”

“Yeah. There’s something there that I need you to find. It’s a– it’s a– toy. For the butt.” John coughed wildly, trying not to laugh on camera.

“A-a what for the butt?” Alex looked so offended, which made the whole office snicker quietly, still intent on watching the screen.

Behind them, a shell exploded, causing John to start coughing even more violently. 

“Just like a– just like a fun thing. For the butt.” John stammered, still trying not to laugh.

“You’re not making any _sense_ , son.” Alex was very good at acting.

Behind them, a soldier told him with a straight face, “he’s talking about a butt plug, sir.” It was Lafayette.

Another soldier joined in, “yeah, like the ones we saw in Paris!” And that was Peggy, looking proud sitting in between her sisters in the chairs that were laid out for them.

Yet another soldier barged into the conversation, “oh, yeah, right, like the pointed ones? Yeah, yeah.” Hercules smirked at Lafayette, causing them to roll their eyes.

“I’d hate for my girlfriend to find them, she just wouldn’t understand.” John, in the audience next to his amazing boyfriend actor, laced their hands together and snorted. He was so gay.

The first soldier, Lafayette, chimed in, “yeah, I get that.”

John onscreen agreed, “yeah, don’t worry, I never used it though. I was too afraid.”

Another shell hit in front of the trench they were in. Alex said, “okay. I’ll try, son, I’ll try.”

“Don’t _try_ , DO IT,” John screamed at the almost-scared looking sergeant. He coughed again. “ _Find my butt plug_! Okay? The box, has a picture of a man, smiling,” he explained, gripping Alex on the arm tightly.

“Okay, Brooklyn, I’ll look for that, now just try to rest, let’s not talk about any of that anymore.” The sergeant said uncomfortably.

“Wait, wait, there’s something else I need you to get rid of–” started John. “It’s a notebook. Full of, ‘booky-wooky’ songs that I wrote. It’s just too embarrassing…”

Peggy, the second soldier, questioned with her mouth twitching, “I mean. Worse than the butt plug?”

“Well, one goes like this,” John proceeded to break into song: “hey there, Jazzman, spread your jazz! Spread it thick as tuna tonight! Now we’re eating jaaaAAAzz!” He turned his head away in shame. The others filming with him found it incredibly hard not to burst out laughing then and there.

“Okay, Brooklyn, I’ll destroy it for you.”

John quickly intervened with that decision, “UNLESS you think it’s good, then try to find a publisher…” 

“...I’ll destroy it for you,” Alex repeated.

Lafayette, as the first soldier, suggested, “ehh, I dunno, people might dance to that.” They shook their shoulders in a shimmy motion.

“Oh! You do? Thanks, Donny! I’m gonna miss you the most,” John assured Lafayette.

Lafayette nodded their head in agreement, “aw, c’mon. Don’t make me cry now.”

Then John continued with the first subject, “the butt plug is… bigger than you’d expect, just be ready for that, okay?”

“That’s fine, that’s fine,” assured Alex calmly.

“It was an ego thing, I just wanted to, _challenge_ myself, really.”

“Okay, how much more life do you have in you, do you think?” asked Alex, still applying pressure to John’s wound.

John coughed and replied, “enough to ask you, one more favor. Get rid of all the photos of me… being… sassy.”

“Sassy? What’s that?” asked Hercules, as the third soldier, with a smile tugging at his lips.

“You know, sassy! It’s kinda like, being like,” John made a little head movement, then struck a pose, snapping his fingers and throwing his arm in the air while making duck lips.

“You know, or being like,” he continued, squinting his eyes and making the duck lips more pronounced, “you know, like– like I’m– judging some people’s clothes. Or, one like this,” he kept the duck lips and threw two fingers under his chin in a peace sign symbol.

“Okay, Brooklyn, anything else?” Alex asked, visibly tired. There was a pause. Then, “...BROOKLYN!”

Peggy leaned over and felt for a pulse, “he’s dead, sir.”

Hercules nodded his head and added, “he died as he lived: sassy.”

Alex closed John’s eyes. “Goodbye, Brooklyn. Your songs weren’t that bad.” He started singing the song a little, “hey there, Jazzman, spread your jazz.” 

The others joined him, “Spread it thick as tuna tonight, now we’re eating jazz.”

Lafayette, as the first soldier, stood up, their body now visible out of the trench, “see, I told you we could dance to this!” Then they bent over suddenly, “OW! I’M HIT!”

The screen faded to black, the credits rolling by quickly, most of the work clearly done by Hamilton.

Their audience clapped, even Thomas Jefferson, most of them still laughing hysterically. George Washington spoke up from where he was sitting in the middle, “I thought this video was supposed to be educational?” Still, he tried not to smile. It was funny.

Alex and his group looked innocently back at him, “was it not?”

**Author's Note:**

> Whoop..... thanks for reading!!
> 
> also i may be running out of ideas so if you want to request something, don't hesitate to comment!


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